


Breaking Ground Rules

by joouheika



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, Manga Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 22:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1138354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joouheika/pseuds/joouheika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ymir loves cute things. Kinda ruins the whole... tough bitch deal she's got going on. [modern AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Ground Rules

It is a problem.

Even though she gets to wear a skirt to school it isn’t the same.

She still has to sit like a boy, the first buttons of her blouse undone, no tie, no ribbons in her hair, no lacy bra or floral print underwear. No make up. No jewelry. Nothing cute. Nothing girly.

When she hangs with her friends or her classmates outside of class she’s gotta wear pants, baggy jeans and loose t-shirts, flannel and sneakers. That sorta stuff. The occasional baseball cap over her messy hair that’s often pulled back in a ponytail.

It suits her better.

Those sorts of clothes.

Everyone says so, when they bother to say something.

Everyone feels so.

It helps her fit in, be less noticeable, even a little likable, because that she sure as hell isn’t.

They don’t have to know.

They don’t have to know how much she adores all that cute crap. Pastel colours, ribbons and bows in your hair, brightly painted nails, matching underwear that either makes you look like some sort of fairytale princess (not PG rated) or a model, flowers and cute animals, sweet foods, floral soaps, just about all the cliché girly crap that you got shit over liking if you weren’t five or the girliest of girls which she ain’t.

Lanky, flat, and not cute at all.

Ymir isn’t suited for any of it.

But she loves it.

Her entire room is pink and yellow, purple and light green and light blues. White and never black. Her bed has a unicorn on the end of it and is overflowing with plushies of cute animals, her desk has tons of perfume and nail polish she only puts on to wear around the house. She has a few sets of underwear to only wear under the too cute dresses (full of lace or satin or both) being too cute itself. Accessories carefully categorized (bows, rings, bangles, and necklaces, socks and gloves) maryjanes and flats with jewels or bows encrusted on them. Too many parasols. Too many fashion magazines.

The worst of it is her collection of CDs.

Almost all of them from the cutest pop idol of her time: Christa Renz.

Most of the fashion magazines feature her photoshoots, news on her next single, her fashion tips, make-up suggestions, and all around cute lifestyle.

Ymir adores her.

And envies her.

Ymir, 16 years of age. 

To be quite honest, a high school delinquent.

Who got into more than one fight at least every other day. 

Expected tomboy.

She was going to graduate in this skirt and never be able to wear anything other than pants and tshirts outside her house for the rest of her life.

Or so she thought.

\--

Summer break is coming up and it is hot hot hot outside, fuck everything. She’d forgotten to bring a cap (though that might be breaking the uniform code okay it totally would have but she doesn’t need to give a shit about that because she has a reputation to not… give a shit on that sorta thing) _and_ a hair tie so all day her hair has been sticking to the back of her neck. And it’s been hot, too hot. Summer break isn’t here yet so summer shouldn’t be here either. That’s her opinion.

She can’t wait to hurry up and catch the train home and maybe do a nice cooling facial, after a long long bath. She might use the really nice rose bath salts she got on sale last week in the town over, where she often buys her stuff so her cover isn’t blown.

It’s the weekend tomorrow so she doesn’t have to worry about any questions. She’d made that mistake yesterday, trying out the lilac already, she had to blame someone from another class for having sprayed too much perfume in the girl’s bathroom when she’d just came out from her stall (she’d been smoking, crap she really is a delinquent).

She drinks the last of her water, swearing, complaining, bitching to herself over how hot it is before chucking the empty bottle down the hill at the nearest bin by the batting cage. Misses.

Doesn’t care.

Continues on a couple steps when-

“Excuse me!”

Someone wearing a baseball uniform trails after her. A bottle in hand.

Ymir makes an annoyed noise.

Some goody-two shoes was getting after her for missing the bin and was what? Going to insist she go all the way down there and throw it away proper? Fuck that.

“Alright. Don’t be giving me some speech about the environment and all that crap it is too hot for me to care okay-”

Man.

Is what she might have said if the person, very short, extremely petite, maybe it was a boy from a lower grade- in that case she should be getting after him as his senior for using the upperclassmen’s baseball field when Ymir finds-

This person is a girl.

A very pretty, blonde, _familiar_ girl.

And as Ymir starts to gape.

The girl- Christa Renz.

Starts to speak.

“Ah, that’s not it. If you’re worried about the empty bottle I already put it into the correct bin for you. It’s just. It is rather hot today isn’t it? I was wondering in that case if you’d like take one of my drinks. I brought many. It’s not only plain water it has electrolytes you see. So it’s very good for you…”

Ymir looks down at the bottle of fancy water Christa places in her hand.

Still gaping.

Christa is looking at her in concern.

Probably thinks she has heat stroke, or is on the verge of it.

“A-also!”

She totally is thinking that right now.

Ymir might as well be having a stroke.

What was Christa Renz, pop idol of their century doing at her crummy ass school in a baseball uniform? It is practical looking, a little worn, and definitely not for some sort of photoshoot- it is a _legit_ uniform. Looking hastily around, aside from a couple students in the distance walking home they are pretty much the only ones present in the school’s backyard.

That also is continued as Ymir almost gives out a squeak as Christa reaches towards her, pulling her hair back, she hears the metallic sound of a clip clipping.

“There. That should be better. It is isn’t it?”

Ymir touches at the back of her now cooling neck. A breeze even seems to be coming by, so convenient now that her hair is pinned back… touching the clip she feels a decorative pattern, probably roses… a bird… she wonders what colour it is… she also wonders-

“HOW THE HELL IS ANYONE THIS NICE.”

Christa jumps, “W-what?!”

“Y-Y-YOU- WHAT’S WITH YOU.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Ymir flings her arms into the air, a hand still gripping the electro-what’s-it water.

“The hell is this! Do you even fucking know me?! Nope! Just giving a water to a stranger! Just worrying if a stranger’s gunna have heat stroke! What the fuck! Who’s like that? You’re not a granny yet! You some kind of saint? Got bad karma to make up for? You believe in god or something?”

Despite Ymir’s outburst Christa only looks slightly taken aback. Not insulted nor afraid, she is simply confused.

“Isn’t it natural… to help others out since we’re both… sweating in a field right now?”

As she says this she tilts her head to one side. It’s cute. Really fucking cute. Even in a dirty, old baseball jersey that wait what if it’s hers?! She’s cute, really goddamn cute. Would be cute in all the dresses Ymir has at home that sometimes didn’t fit her right anyway because that sorta cute shit was made for small, cute people. Ah Ymir is going crazy right now.

“Look. Word of advice. Don’t go talking to strangers, just because they’re sweating like an ape okay! In comparison to you I assure you they will always be tons smellier!”

Christa’s brow furrows a little at this, she bites her lower lip a little, glancing away as she says, much more quiet, a sincerity that was present before even more present now as she says-

“I don’t know about that. I think you smell much better than me. I rather like lilac.”

Ymir uncaps the bottle of what was in this fucking water again water.

Drinks half and douses her head with the rest of it.

“Okay,” is what she says. She’s got a plan.

“This is what we’re gunna do. You’re not gunna tell one single soul that I smell like lilacs, or any sorta flower, or anything nice got it. And I-” usually in a situation not like this because she kept her I love girly shit a lot secret hidden and nobody for today had caught a whiff of it until now- usually she’d threaten to physically maim the offender or harm a close relative but since this is… “- won't tell anybody that you’re the pop idol, Christa Renz.”

Christa gapes at her.

“Y-you know who I am?!”

“That’s right and if you say anything about today to anyone I’m going to-”

Christa clutches onto the hand that’s been pointing a finger in her face, the other hand is preoccupied crushing the empty bottle behind her hip.

“I didn’t think I’d have a fan in these parts. The demographic is rather different here than where I’m typically marketed. Thank you very much for your support!”

Ymir feels her face become hot, her neck too. It isn’t the summer heat this time.

“Ah… not a problem… you’re… welcome?”

She looks down to where Christa is holding onto her hand.

“Really! I will definitely keep your secret! But you must absolutely not tell anyone that I was here okay? You mustn’t tell anyone that I’m actually a tomboy!”

Ymir blinks.

Christa bats her eyelashes at her.

Ymir takes a breath.

She needs it.

Then she says,

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!”

\--

After Ymir tells Christa her name since she already knows Christa's. They go out for ice cream before Ymir invites Christa to her place to use her bathtub.

She shows off her bath salts saying it really was okay for Christa to use them and for her to take her time, but Christa showers quick, and her day clothes look like the boy’s PE uniform.

Ymir serves her some iced lemon tea. The tall glasses have small smiling bears and bees on them. She put in a flower curving plastic straw too. Maybe that was too much. Sitting together in the living room Ymir asks if Christa would like to watch some TV. She turns it on and a documentary on some extremely adorable white rabbits is on.

Ymir quickly flips through the channel, needing to go back whenever Christa’s body tenses on one particular channel having to do with wrestling. She settles on that, making a face at the amount of yelling and grunting she pretty much has to deal with at school every day from someone getting the crap beaten out of them or beating the crap out of someone.

They watch TV for a little bit…

“So, Christa… what are you doing here?”

Christa frowns, her thoughtful look familiar.

Ymir recognizes it from all the interviews she’s watched.

None of them can give her information for this.

“You… invited me over don’t you remember?”

Ymir stands up, “Not that! I meant what were you doing in the baseball field? Fuck, you don’t go to any school around here yeah?”

Christa looks away back to the TV, then to her near empty glass of ice tea. Playing with the straw a bit, stirring it in her glass, her fingernails smooth and pink and glossy. Ymir realises Christa knows that’s what she’d been asking but was trying to avoid it.

“It’s that thing you promised not to talk about earlier.”

“We’re not in public right now.”

“Your family?”

“They’re out. They’re always out.”

Her old man liked to gamble a lot, he was probably out playing cards or pachinko with his work buddies about now- this was probably what made her poor ma get into an early grave, Ymir barely knew her since she died when Ymir was like three. Only child.

She tells this to Christa who listens with such seriousness it does make Ymir think she’s some sort of nun from a chapel.

“You’re safe here.”

Is what Ymir finishes with, sounds really lame, but Christa smiles at her.

“You’re a rather nice person, Ymir.”

Ymir pours her a new glass of iced tea and tells her to shut up.

Christa turns off the TV.

Afterwards they play cards, an old deck that’s missing cards which could be why or why not her dad wasn’t using them anymore. Ymir supposes they should cook something, and too lazy to visit a convenience store she digs out some cup ramen she usually eats when she can’t be fucked to leave the house (which is a lot, but when she does go out she really does go out, and far, like to visit that bakery that made bread in the shape of turtles…). Christa is fine with it, though she must eat some nice food being super rich and all… wait.

“Who said you were sleeping over?”

Ymir has slammed her entire body over the door to her bedroom. A dead giveaway it’s her room with the forest-animal themed name sign on her door that was hand crafted. Christa looks at Ymir innocently. 

“That’s what staying over means doesn’t it? Am I really being a bother? I’m sorry.”

Fuck.

How was she supposed to tell someone like this to make the last train that probably already left, fuck.

“No no no it’s just don’t you have like… appointments and a schedule and really important shit to do than have an impromptu sleepover at some chick’s house that you just met?”

Christa blinks.

“Ah, I’m on vacation right now.”

“Seriously…”

\--

She’d wanted to avoid this but asking her to sleep in the smoke smelling living room on the lumpy mustard coloured couch all alone seemed like it'd be a really mean thing to do. She listens to Christa exclaim and ooh and ahh over her room, waiting for the judgment, the incredulous laughter, a critique.

It never comes.

“You really are my fan! You have all the singles, and this one! This one was limited production! Even my manager had a hard time getting a copy. You’re amazing.”

Ymir flushes a little (no, a lot, a hell fire fucking a lot) at that.

“I won a raffle.”

By buying at least 1,000 melon buns with the special seal on it that allowed her to have that many entries. She’d worked a lot of overtime last summer to get it.

Christa looks over the rest of Ymir’s room. Sitting on her bed, Christa fluffs a ruffled pink and purple pillow in her lap.

Places it down aside her before standing up once more.

She’s gone through Ymir's CD rack, her book shelf, her jewelry box and looked over the perfumes, before she finally decides to check out the closet.

Ymir flings herself too late to her closet door as Christa opens it and steps through.

“I knew it! The outfit you changed into that you’re wearing now, doesn’t match at all! So you had this many pretty dresses hiding away…”

Ymir grunts from where she might have gotten carpet burn.

“I thought you are an idol not some after school detective.”

Christa pulls out the dress that has a sailor theme, navy blue. Holding it up, Ymir thinks if Christa wore it it’d suit her perfectly.

“This one!” Christa tells her. Gently placing it in her arms once she gets off the ground, picking out other dresses, red ones with bows, pink and brown ones with bears (Ymir likes bears, they can be really cute too maybe not as cute as rabbits) or cake, ruffled blouses, poofy skirts; she makes up an array of coordinating outfits that Ymir wouldn’t even have thought up of even though it’s her stuff. 

She’s about to tell Christa it’s really alright if Christa wants to try it all on but the words don't reach Christa's ears, interrupted by the smaller girl's excited breathy outburst-

“These! I want to see you in all of these!”

Ymir blinks.

Placing a hand at her hip.

She decides to play Christa’s game.

“I can’t… try all of them on at once you know.”

Christa pouts.

“I understand that Ymir! I meant I want you to try all of them on one at a time for me to see!”

Ymir is embarrassed. Scratching at the back of her neck.

“The fuck do you wanna see that for?”

When Christa doesn’t reply Ymir looks over to her, almost sputtering in disbelief at Christa’s extremely red, extremely shy and embarrassed face.

“Because! I think! You are very cute!”

\--

It’s almost 2 in the morning when Christa is satisfied.

She’s flipping through the photos she took on her phone.

At some point through the dress up she’d rummaged around the drawers that Ymir kept her “outside clothes” in and had tried some of them on herself. Some of the pictures are with them together, posing like it was some big shot photoshoot or just goofing off. Ymir lends Christa some pyajamas, in her opinion they are of course, a million times cuter on Christa than she (even if baggy), printed with white rabbits and the night sky on violet.

Christa says she likes the pair Ymir is wearing more, since it has horses.

Ymir gives Christa the bed, settling down on a makeshift bed of extra pillows and blankets.

In the dark of the night, the only light the moon outside and the street lamps; within it Ymir asks again.

Why had Christa come all the way over here?

Christa explains, and Ymir realises it is the same with her.

Christa can’t show she likes uncute things in the place she resides, just in case someone recognizes her. It’d be bad for business. To share she wasn’t too fond of sweet things, and puppies and kitties were alright, but reptiles and stallions were much more to her liking, and dark colours she preferred to wear, and sports- how she loves sports! Not that there is anything wrong with a girl liking sports but, the world doesn’t always see it that way. It’d pop the adorable little princess girly idol image she has going. And she likes cute things too, but it’s not all she likes and it’s not all who she is.

Ymir too. While she loves cute things it’s not all she likes. Though she likes them a lot!

Christa laughs.

Aren’t they a pair of fools?

Hiding so much.

“Maybe we should quit.”

Christa looks over, down to where Ymir has rolled onto her stomach, propping her chin on her hands.

“What do you mean?”

“Quit being phonies. Be true to ourselves. It’s better to live life that way ain’t it? And I’m tired of hiding all the time. Who cares what anyone else thinks. What the fuck do I think?”

“…that bears are extremely cute, especially when paired with bees?”

“Fuck yeah I do!”

Christa laughs.

Hands folded over her stomach as she lies on her back.

“…you’re right. Shall we do it together then?”

Christa can’t tell how red her face has turned in the dark, yeah? Ymir gulps.

“Do what…”

Another laugh.

“What you just said silly. Be true to ourselves. No more hiding. I just met you but… I don’t feel like that at all I feel… as if I can do anything, so long as you’re with me.”

Fast. A very fast confession. It was a confession though? Right?

Ymir doesn’t mean for her voice to come out as high as it is.

“A-A-alright then.”

Ymir glances over just as Christa does.

“I’ll start first then. The truth is, Christa Renz is just a stage name…”

\--

It's all over the news.

How the popular idol and singer Christa Renz was now pursuing a career in professional baseball.

Under her legal name- Historia Reiss.

She is quite good, Ymir had to say.

It was funny how she was supposed to be true to herself, but her shelf was slowly being over taken by baseball magazines and recorded games, sports interviews. So long as Historia is involved.

Ymir tries to attend all her games, but sometimes their schedules don’t quite match up or that boutique that just opened up was having a sale.

She did get questions over the perfume, the nail polish, a bunch of shit when she wore pink sneakers, a jade bangle, started carrying that backpack with the singing frogs on it. It was soon learned that getting your ass whooped was hella lot more embarrassing by a backpack intended for elementary schoolers than it was without, so it was better not to invite that upon yourself since it could be very much helped.

Whatever sort of cute accessory Ymir decides to wear to school or what dress and what lipstick she’s going to wear this weekend or once school is out. Somehow, someway, entirely stylish and very cute in her opinion- she always incorporates into her outfit that hair clip Historia gave her.

It is white, much like the leather of a brand new baseball.


End file.
